Social Caterpillar
by dream.sequins
Summary: Matt.Linda. And sometimes he'd blush, and tell her how nice he thought she was, and how her eyes were big, and the same color as her game boy, and how he thought that that was pretty nice, too… -oneshot, drabble-ish-


_Social Caterpillar_

_(**Matt/Linda**)__ And sometimes he'd blush, and tell her how nice he thought she was, and how her eyes were big, and the same color as her game boy, and how he thought that that was pretty nice, too… (oneshot, drabble-ish)_

_disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, or any of its characters._

* * *

Sometimes, Linda would hear someone rapping on her bedroom door. It was quiet, just barely audible, and that could only mean one thing; it was Matt. So she would shuffle over to the door and peer through the crack, and when she'd see his downcast hazel eyes just barely hidden behind the tangerine glow of his goggles, she'd nudge the door open the rest of the way so he could glide inside, his light footsteps echoing through the room.

Linda would walk back to her bedside, push aside her pencils and pastels, and hop up onto the mattress, patting the spot next to her. And he'd saunter over, plopping down clumsily on her left, and eye her bedside table with apparent interest. So she would smile and grab her kiwi colored game boy off the tabletop, offering Matt the opposite end of her gamelink cable. And he'd plug it in and his eyes would automatically glue themselves to the movement on his own screen.

And so they'd play, because he was shy and lonely, and she was quiet and awkward, and she really just loved playing Pokémon Silver and knew he felt the same, and it was always better when you had someone else to play with, someone else to trade with, and her Typhlosion would always beat his Feraligatr, though he'd never let her tell anyone, not that she would, because she was quiet, anyway, and she appreciated the sensitive boy's company and wouldn't want him to get offended and not come back.

Matt would talk to her in a soft voice, about how Mello was bossy and obsessive, and Near was smug and annoying, and how sometimes, he didn't think he fit in perfectly with his best friend, but how it didn't really matter, because they were best friends, anyway, plain and simple. And sometimes he'd blush, and tell her how nice he thought she was, and how her eyes were big, and the same color as her game boy, and how he thought that that was pretty nice, too…and Linda would listen. Linda would listen, but couldn't always hear him. Because his voice was quiet and distant, and she was really just happy to have his company, and knew that he was just happy that she _would _listen, because Mello only talked and Near just _stared._

But if Linda had actually heard what he'd said every now and again, she would've had common sense enough to tell him (among other things) _not _to eat those poor little caterpillars, no matter how much Mello goaded him on (and despite how fuzzy it felt when it was sliding down his throat). Because they probably tasted…really yucky (and though Matt would later insist it wasn't so bad, his face revealed otherwise), and it _really_ couldn't have been too healthy…

But most of all because those baby caterpillars never even had a chance. Everyone counted them out because they were small and uncultivated, and because, _really, _what were they compared to the bright, showy colors of the vivacious butterfly or the dull, muted splendor of the oddball moth? Some caterpillars may have been tinier and…slower than others, but they always tried their hardest, and one day they'd emerge as the most spectacular butterfly of them all.

But she never actually heard him, save a broken sentence or two, so she never told him, save a few whispered words when he was too wrapped up in his game to notice or care.

* * *

And as they got older, they saw each other less and less, because Matt was a bit more outgoing, and Mello was even more domineering, and Linda was more involved with her artwork. And sometimes she'd practice drawing portraits of Near and Mello, but she'd always draw Matt the most, because she couldn't quite get him _right_, and she'd smile and hope he'd come by soon. Because Mello's voice made him easy to spot and Near always sat in the same room, but little by little she found herself beginning to forget what Matt's face looked like, and she realized that wasn't something she wanted to do.

But on that cold December day when Mello ran away, a part of Matt chased after him, and with the gleam stolen from his soulful eyes and the life gone from his graceful steps, Matt just wasn't Matt. So Linda would take the initiative and knock on his door, and when there was no answer, she'd let herself in.

Matt would lift his head and stare blankly in her direction, and she would take the ghost of a smile that graced his lips as permission to sit down. So she'd draw him playing Tales of Symphonia, because deep down he was a total Nintendo fan boy, and thought that the cel-shaded graphics looked kind of really _pwnsome._

And the more she'd visit, the more his defenses dropped, until one day Linda caught him smiling at her the way he used to, and thought her heart was going to burst out of her ribcage.

When Matt started talking again, it wasn't about anything much, just his game, or her artwork, or how the glow of the television made her eyes look even greener. And Linda would smile, and wish for everything to stay like that forever, even though they both knew it couldn't.

So on the night before he slipped out of her life forever, Matt slipped into her room, shaking her awake. When Linda opened her eyes, she found Matt sitting on the foot of her bed and her old game boy clutched in her hand, already linked to his teal one. And it was sudden and unexpected, but she gave him a sleepy smile and turned her attention to their game, and everything was just like she'd always remembered, only so very…_different,_ in a way she just couldn't place.

And later, when she was drifting back to sleep, Linda felt the quick press of his lips to hers, and, yes, she _was _sleepy at the time, but she remembers because it was her first, and it was soft and it was warm, but it was short, and it was just _Matt. _And when it was over, her eyes snapped open, and her hands searched around blindly for him in the dark, but he'd already left her room.

And when she got out of bed to check in the hallway and saw Roger pacing around in a mini-panic, she knew, just _knew _he'd left. And she hated him, but she didn't, and she wondered if this was how Matt had felt when Mello had left _him_ behind. At least, in his own way, Matt had said goodbye before he'd gone. But the more she thought about it, the less it mattered.

Because that's when Linda realized that she never wanted to say goodbye.

* * *

And when she learns of his death, she's floored…floored, but unsurprised. Because deep down, she's known for a while, known in the dark, empty pit of her heart, the one that had recently begun to pang whenever she thought about the reclusive gamer. And so she mourns.

She mourns, but not like she had for Whammy or L or Mello, because unlike them, Matt wasn't just a face or a name or a far-off childhood memory. Matt was a living, breathing part of her life, and now his lifeless body was in some bitter sterile morgue, all the way on the other side of the world, with barely a name to put to his face, and no one there with any fond memories of the person behind both.

And no one here really had any, either, because Roger never cared, and Near barely ever acknowledged him. But Linda remembered, she always remembered, remembered the boy who lit up all her memories and made her life in the otherwise cold orphanage feel sort of warm. And sometimes, when she wasn't too busy with whatever life was currently flinging at her, she'd let herself draw a picture, because it turned out she couldn't _ever _forget what his face looked like, and she'd cry, just a little.

And she'd still mourn her little social caterpillar, eaten up by the cruel, cruel world, and the simply _pwnsome _butterfly he almost became.

* * *

_**a**_/n: My first foray in Death Note. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
